


Bondage of Irrational Fears

by sharkie335



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Bondage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-04
Updated: 2010-01-04
Packaged: 2017-10-05 19:02:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkie335/pseuds/sharkie335
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Take off your clothes, and I'll give you what you need."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bondage of Irrational Fears

  
They were kissing before they were even fully in the room. Another rough mission, another close call, and right now all John wanted was to crawl inside Rodney and never ever come out.

But when he moved to push Rodney against the door, Rodney neatly reversed their position, using a move that John remembered Ronon showing him. His breath seized up in his lungs, and he struggled briefly, trying to get loose.

"Shh, John, quiet. I'm not going to hurt you. But it's my turn."

John didn't know what Rodney meant, until Rodney's hands slid down his arms and locked onto his wrists. Then he knew. He could have struggled more, could have gotten loose. Just because Rodney knew one move didn't mean that he could actually hold John if he wanted loose, but John wanted this.

Wanted to give up control to Rodney, wanted something to fight against that he wouldn't - couldn't - hurt. So he went limp against the door, saying only, "Please?"

"Oh, god, John," Rodney whispered brokenly, kissing him again while holding on to John's wrists. When the kiss finally broke with a soft sound, Rodney let go of his wrists. "Take off your clothes, and I'll give you what you need."

John couldn't resist darting in and giving Rodney a quick peck on the lips before he started stripping down. Rodney watched him hungrily, and John couldn't help preening, just a little, as he shed the last of his clothes. "Don't forget those," Rodney said, motioning, and John slipped his tags off, feeling somehow more naked without those than without his clothes.

Going to his nightstand, Rodney pulled out the cuffs. "Do you want this, John?"

"God, yes." John made his way to the bed and crawled up on it, kneeling next to Rodney, holding out his wrists.

"Enthusiastic," Rodney chuckled, wrapping the leather around one wrist and locking it shut.

"For you? Always," John answered, loving the way that the cuff held him. This had been such a good idea, even if he hadn't thought that Rodney would ever want to use them on him.

Clipped together, the cuffs pulled his arms forward and together, and John nearly groaned at the feeling, and when Rodney guided him down onto his back, he whimpered. "Don't stop. I - I need to fight something, Rodney. Let me fight the cuffs, please?"

This was the moment when Rodney was going to decide this was more than he could take, when he'd finally walk away.

Except he didn't.

Instead, he pulled on the clip till John lifted his hands over his head and fastened them to the headboard. "I'm not going to stop, John. You're not going to scare me."

John pulled at the cuffs, groaning again at the lack of give. He was held tightly, sweetly and all he need now was... He looked at Rodney hopefully, who was standing next to him. He leaned down and kissed John, harshly and deeply. Breaking it off suddenly, he turned and whispered in John's ear. "What do you need, John? Tell me."

John's breath caught in his chest. "I need - "

But Rodney didn't say anything, just looked at him as if he actually had infinite patience for this.

"I need - " God, this was hard. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and spilled it out. "I need to let go of control for a little while. Just be, without having to worry about who gets hurt."

"I can do that." And then Rodney's mouth was covering his, and oh, it was sweet and hot all at the same time. Rodney's tongue tapped at his lips, asking entrance, and John opened for him with a moan.

Rodney's clothed chest rubbed up against his own, making him feel even more naked, if that was possible. He tried to reach up to unzip Rodney's shirt, only to be pulled up short by the cuffs. He pulled, frantic to get to skin, only to have his shoulders pressed to the bed by Rodney's warm hands.

"Shh, John. I'll give you what you need," Rodney repeated, standing up. John opened eyes he didn't remember closing to watch as Rodney stripped off his shirt.

He'd put on muscle mass over the last year, lost some of the softness around his middle that he'd had when they arrived in Atlantis, but that didn't matter to John. All that mattered was that he was going to be skin to skin with Rodney in moments.

Rodney undid his pants one handed as he rested his other hand on John's chest, stroking through the thick hair there. Finally, finally he was naked as well, and John whimpered, wanting to touch so badly but unable to move.

After caressing John's chest one last time, Rodney stood back out of reach for a moment and just looked him over. John opened his mouth, not sure what he was going to say, but needing to persuade Rodney to touch him some more. "Shush, John. I have a plan and you're not going to dissuade me from it." John slammed his mouth shut, frustrated but unwilling to argue.

Rodney watched his face carefully, then nodded to himself as if he saw the answer he was looking for. Moving slowly, Rodney crawled up on the bed, over John, pressing him back into the mattress. John jerked on the cuffs, struggling, though he wasn't sure why.

Rodney soothed him with gentle touches to his face, but didn't stop moving until he was kneeling over John's chest, his cock mere inches from John's mouth. "Open up, John."

Before Rodney had even finished the sentence, John had opened his mouth, straining to reach the cock that was tantalizingly out of reach. Rodney pressed down on his own dick, pointing it towards John and slowly feeding it to him. John let his mouth and throat go slack, hoping that Rodney would just take what he wanted.

He was gentle, but inexorable, sliding his cock in deep. John moaned around the thick flesh filling his mouth, loving the sensation of being used like this, even if it was a little hard to breathe.

Gradually, Rodney settled into a pattern - in to the count of three, and then the long slide back out, where he held with just the head of his cock in John's mouth for another count to three. John knew that he was being careful, timing it so that he could breathe, but he didn't want that. He wanted Rodney to be careless, to take what John was offering. He wasn't sure what he could do. He couldn't speak, and with his hands bound he couldn't grab Rodney's hips and encourage him to fuck. As Rodney's cock slid in again, he whimpered and swallowed.

Rodney groaned and started to move faster, a little deeper. John moaned and did the best he could to bring Rodney to the edge as fast as he could, only to have Rodney stop and pull back. "No, don't," he said, his voice breathless, as Rodney pulled his cock out of John's mouth.

But Rodney ignored him, climbing off of him, leaving him feeling cold and bereft. John jerked his hands, trying to get free of the cuffs holding him in place so that he could go after Rodney, but they held. Whimpering, he relaxed back into the bed, or tried to. Rodney smiled at him, that crooked grin that said so much, and John whimpered again.

"Please, Rodney. Don't just leave me hanging here. I'll do anything..." John knew he was begging, but he didn't care. He wanted more, wanted to have Rodney's cock back in his mouth, in his ass, wanted Rodney to touch him. Something, not just this, with Rodney standing so close he could feel his heat, but not touching.

Rodney's smile widened. "I know you'll do anything, John. But that's just the point, isn't it? You can't do _anything_ unless I let you. You're going to just have to stay still and wait."

John took a deep breath, and then another, trying to force his muscles to relax. He closed his eyes, focusing on the sensation of the leather that held his wrists so tightly, so sweetly. He tugged on them again, feeling the pull in his shoulders, and it made him actually relax, versus just pretending.

The silence and stillness made it feel like hours had passed, though it couldn't have been more than a few minutes. When a hand touched John's nipple, he jumped, but didn't open his eyes. Biting his lip, he fought to just accept the touch of Rodney's hand on his chest.

Rodney was murmuring something indistinct, but John didn't fight to hear it. He caught the occasional word, things like _beautiful_ and _good_ and _mine_, and that was enough. Rodney's hands were callused oddly, from using tools and a keyboard instead of a gun. How had John never noticed that before?

As Rodney's fingers deftly rolled and twisted and pinched his nipple, John forgot his thoughts about calluses. Forgot everything else, too. His focus narrowed to that little inch of skin and what Rodney was doing it to it.

When lips brushed the other, his sensitivity was so high that he gasped and jumped. "Yes, oh, please yes."

Rodney made a pleased sound and licked his nipple as if it were a reward. He did his best to arch his chest, to mutely beg for more. Rodney chuckled, vibrating John's chest, and nipped at the nipple he'd been licking. "Just relax, John. You'll get there."

John opened his eyes, looking down at the top of Rodney's head. The sight of Rodney's tongue coming out to lick, cat-like, at his nipple was enough to make him shake. He wanted, oh, god, he wanted. Wanted to touch Rodney, to pull him up and rut against him till they both came, hard and oh, so good.

But he couldn't move his god damn hands.

Glancing up from under his lashes, Rodney smiled like he knew what John was thinking, which he probably did. Then, slowly, he bit down on John's nipple. Even seeing the flash of teeth, knowing what was coming, it made John thrash on the bed, moaning. "Please, Rodney, don't - " he choked out.

Rodney just smiled even wider and moved across John's chest to the other nipple, which was treated to the same slow lick and bite. John couldn't believe this - normally his nipples just weren't that sensitive. But with being restrained, he couldn't do anything to move things along, except hunch his hips, hoping to deepen the pressure of Rodney's stomach against his aching cock.

By the time Rodney finally finished, John was sweating and swearing to do something to Rodney if he didn't get the hell on with things already. Rodney knelt up between his legs, and John swore he could feel the heat of Rodney's gaze as it traveled over his body.

He spread his legs wider, trying to look appealing, trying to tempt Rodney into fucking him already, and from the look in Rodney's eyes it was working. "Come on, Rodney, fuck me please? I'm dying, here."

Rodney shook his head. "You're not dying. But fucking you, I think I can do." Picking up the tube of lube and a condom from the nightstand, he dripped a little on his cock. Setting it down on the bed, he ripped open the condom and carefully rolled it down. John watched with greedy eyes as Rodney added more lube, getting things good and slick. When Rodney clambered up on the bed, John pulled his legs back to his chest, feeling exposed and loving every second of it.

Biting his lip, Rodney looked from John's face, down to his ass, and back again. His face was flushed, breathing more than a little rushed, and John groaned when he felt the too-slick tip of Rodney's cock pressed against his entrance. Usually, Rodney was careful when they did this, almost _too_ careful, spending long minutes stretching John open before pressing inside. Maybe this time...

"Fuck, yeah," John groaned again, trying to encourage Rodney without actually saying anything specific. He didn't want to risk changing Rodney's mind, and as Rodney's dick forced itself into John, he could have kissed Rodney for knowing exactly what he wanted.

His eyes were rolling in their sockets at the _pleasurepainpleasure_ of being forced open like this, the drag of skin on latex. It burned, and it hurt, and it felt so good that John wasn't sure he could speak. Rodney's hands were big and hot on the back of his thighs, pushing his legs further up and back, bending him in half, pinning him down to the bed.

He could tell the moment that Rodney slid in fully, because he froze, panting as if he'd run a race. "Goddammit, Rodney! Don't just sit there - fuck me already!"

Rodney gasped and grimaced. "You need to shut up, now, or this is going to be over before it starts," he said, but he started to move, slow and deep.

It wasn't enough, could never be enough, John thought. But Rodney proved him wrong, shifting him slightly, so that his cock was pressing just hard enough, just deep enough, right at the perfect angle. John would have squirmed, except that he couldn't move at all. He kept trying to touch Rodney - to brush his fingers through his hair, or touch his face, or cling to his shoulders, but he couldn't move his hands.

Rodney was finally starting to really move, harder and faster, and John deliberately clenched down hard on the cock deep within him. Without being able to touch, his awareness narrowed down to the hard cock in his ass. Nothing else really mattered, anyway.

When his orgasm hit, he was so involved with being fucked that it was almost a surprise. He yelped, body going tight and hard as his cock spit and jerked without even being touched. Shuddering to a halt, Rodney waited him out, body poised above his. It was only when John's brain started to function again that he realized that Rodney couldn't have come - he usually made far too much noise, and he'd been practically silent.

He felt like his bones had melted, but John couldn't help the clench around the cock in his ass. Hissing, Rodney jerked, then froze again. "What are you waiting for?"

Glancing down at John's cock, Rodney visibly forced himself to look back at John's face. "John - please, can I?"

And somehow, John knew what he wanted, going even limper under Rodney's hands, more pliable. "Go for it. Don't worry about me."

He shifted his hands on John's thighs, pushing him wider, and then Rodney was _fucking_ him, _taking_ what he wanted, and it was so good that John could have cried out. Maybe. Not that he'd admit it, or anything.

He was looking at forty, and there was no way he could get it up again that fast, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was that Rodney wasn't being cautious or gentle. John was only vaguely aware that he was talking, saying something that might have been "Fuck me" or it might not be. Rodney seemed to take it as the encouragement it was, because he thrust into John hard enough to bruise, once, twice, three more times and then froze as he came with a strangled noise that might have started as a shout.

Belying the rough fuck, Rodney leaned down and kissed John gently, then carefully pulled out, going to the bathroom to dispose of the condom before climbing back into bed with John and turning so John could see his face. Hopefully, John tugged on the chain, trying to remind Rodney that he was still tied, and saying without words that he'd really like to be free now, please.

Rodney gave a crooked grin and sat up a little, unhooking the chain from the hook in the headboard, and unfastening the cuffs. When he was loose, John turned and wrapped his arms around Rodney. He couldn't say thank you, not without explaining to Rodney that he _wasn't_ thanking him for the fuck, but he could hold on tight and hope that Rodney figured it out for himself.

Rubbing soothing circles on John's back, Rodney didn't struggle or pull away, like John halfway expected. John closed his eyes and let his body relax.

He never even noticed when he fell asleep.


End file.
